


Glazed and Confused

by parkshwa



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Other, gender neutral reader, war crimes against donuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkshwa/pseuds/parkshwa
Summary: When you started working at a donut shop, the last thing you expected was to see was someone dipping their donut into milk.
Relationships: Bang Chan & You
Kudos: 11





	Glazed and Confused

Working at a donut shop was predictable. For the most part. Every morning at about 8:20 people would start trickling in with big orders for their offices. Well, the responsible ones would, at least. Just before 9 to a little after, there would be the not so responsible people who would come in for office donuts. The ones who knew they were gonna be late to work so they decided to get donuts to try to get off the hook.

Then there was the group of old people who would come in every Wednesday morning and sit in the lobby with their singular donut and cup of coffee they would refill four times over the three hours they would be there. There would also be the school kids before eight with their stressed out parents blearily handing over their credit card. Once noon hit, there was barely anyone who came to the shop. Mostly college kids looking for something sweet to eat while they worked on papers for a little bit.

But every Tuesday and Thursday around 3, there was this one particular regular.

The first time he showed up, it was perfectly normal. He had a nice smile, you remembered thinking. And must have been an international student judging by the Australian accent. He ducked his head and nervously laughed a yes when you asked him about it. Muttered something about studying music at the university. He only ordered a simple glazed donut and a glass of milk.

And it would’ve been fine. If you hadn’t seen him set his things down and go off to the microwave with his donut. Which was normal enough. You’d never fault anyone for deciding to warm up their donut. He bounced on his heels as he waited the 15 seconds for the donut to be done before rushing back to his table with it. Which is when things got weird.

He pulled a set of metal chopsticks from his backpack. Okay. Aright. That’s fine. To each their own. You weren’t gonna judge him for that. But then he proceeded to _dunk_ his _donut_ into the milk before he popped it in his mouth, closing his eyes as he chewed. God, why did he have to be _cute_ while he was committing an atrocity?

He did a little dance in his chair as he finished that bite, already attacking the donut again. You wished he at least had come in when it was busy. When there would’ve been plenty to distract you. But at this time of day? There was _nothing_ except the cold harsh realty of watching a man dunk his warm, fried, sugar bread into a glass of cold milk like a fucking oreo.

And he had come back time and again. Always just after 3. Always on Tuesday and Thursday. You supposed it might be possible that he came otherdays when you were off, but some selfish, daydreaming part of you hoped that he only came because _you_ were there. And despite his horrific food combos, he was cute and sweet and you almost wished he would stick around and talk instead of rushing off to the same table in the corner of the shop.

“What’re you thinking about?” You about jumped as your gaze met the eyes of the man you had once again lapsed into a day dream about. A man who you didn’t even know the name of despite seeing him twice a week for almost three months now.

You tried to fight the blush from creeping up on your face. Tried being the key word. You were positively sure that at this point dunking donut man must have known about your raging crush on him. Or he was completely oblivious to it. You weren’t sure which one you preferred, to be perfectly honest.

“Honestly just kinda spacing out. It’s been a week, ya know?” You shrugged, already getting his donut out of the case as well as the cursed milk.

He hummed, fumbling with his wallet. “Yeah, finals are just a couple weeks away and it’s like every single class collectively decided to have their projects due this week.”

“It sucks.”

“It really does.” He groaned as he took his card back from you, giving you a brief smile before going towards his table.

You sighed when he got out of earshot, practically collapsing against he counter. What were you gonna do about him? Would you do anything at this point? You weren’t even sure if he was just here for a semester or if he’d be back next year or if he was even a senior. The smart thing to do would be to just give up whatever crush you had on the crimes against donuts man and move on with your life.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for you.

“You’re crushing.” Cal said matter of factly as she slid a new tray of strawberry donuts into the case. “Bad.”

“I’m not.” You muttered, turning away from her.

“So how long has that flirtationship been going on?” She asked, leaning against the counter next to you.

“Long enough.” You sighed, stealing glances at him as he strolled over to the microwave. “But it’s doomed.”

“What do you mean doomed? He’s into you.” She scoffed.

“No. Just watch.”

Soon, he sat down, going through the same ritual you had seen him perform every single afternoon he was in here. The chopsticks, the squishing of the donut, the dunking. God, why did you think he was still cute after that? Was it the accent? His looks? The mysterious aura that surrounded him?

“Weird flex on my lactose intolerant ass.” Cal muttered, watching him much like someone would watch a train wreck.

“See? I could never be with him. Who knows what other questionable eating habits he has!” You hissed, keeping your voice down low.

Cal sighed, “I don’t know. Might be worth overlooking it for Mr. Dunkin Donuts.”

“I still don’t even know his name. Haven’t really talked beyond pleasantries as he’s paying for the cursed combo.” You moaned.

“Well that’s an easy fix. Go over and clean the tables near him.” Cal said as if the solution was obvious. “If he’s as interested as I think he is, he’ll make small talk.”

“I don’t know…” You trailed off.

“Trust me.” Cal shoved the spray bottle and rag from underneath the counter into your hands, waving you off into the lobby. “Just try to start a convo.”

At least you had finished that donut as you slowly moved through the tables farthest from him in the lobby. If felt ridiculous cleaning all these tables that were already perfectly clean. Silly to put up such a façade just to talk to him. Not like you couldn’t just cross the lobby and talk to him. But that would require more confidence than you had.

Not to mention he now had his laptop up and was typing away on it. What if he would be angry that you were interrupting his work? He must have kept coming here because it was so quiet. Because he could concentrate. Because he wouldn’t’ have to worry about girls coming up and hitting on him like you were about to do.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just bail out and go back behind the counter and pretend that he was wearing headphones and you didn’t want to interrupt. You knew Cal would roast you over chickening out, but that was far less a horrific fate than embarrassing yourself in front of the cute Australian.

And you were. Going to give up, that is. Give up whatever future you could have with the cute Australian boy with the horrific food habits. But fate, it seemed, didn’t have your back.

“Oh? You never come out here.” He said, grinning up at you.

“Haha. Yeah.” You shuffled from foot to foot, fiddling with the cleaning rag. “Normally I do it earlier but I forgot.”

“Ah. Well that explains it, doesn’t it. At least I can talk to you again.” He grinned. “Don’t know even know your name after all this time. I’m Christopher, by the way. Or Chan. Whichever you prefer.”

“Oh? What’s the difference between the two?”

“Well,” He, Christopher, Chan, Donut Man, turned in his chair to face you easier, “my passport says Christopher, but all my friends call me Chan.”

“Donut shop attendant counts as a friend?” You teased.

“I was hoping that donut shop attendant could be a whole lot more than just a friend.” Chan grinned before looking away shyly. “I mean. If you’re free tomorrow night? Maybe?”

Your heart lept, stomaching dropping. It felt like you were floating for a few, brief moments. What was this? A daydream? Surely it was. This couldn’t be real.

“____” You blurted out. “My name’s ____ not donut shop attendant just in case you were wondering. And I’m not free tomorrow night.”

“Oh. I’m sorry-“ Chan started, ears turning a deep red as you watched the panic raising.

“But I’m free the night after.” You finished, enjoying the matching grin he shot at you. “Even if how you eat donuts is an atrocity.”

“You haven’t even tried it!” He protested.

“I have! After the third time you came in I tried it!” You blurted out. “And it’s not good. Maybe if you like milk, but I’d much rather dunk it in coffee like at least a slightly weird but relatively normal person.”

He scoffed. “I’ll just have to make you see reason.”

“There’s no way I’ll ever convert.”

“We’ll just see about that, ___.” Chan grinned. “Saturday night, right? Meet me at the theater at 7?”

“It’s a date.” You agreed.

“A date.” He confirmed, gathering his things before taking a couple steps away towards the door. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You were grinning like an idiot. You could feel your muscles start to ache as you watched the spot he disappeared from view as if you somehow expected he’d come back. Even if you knew that wasn’t the case, even if you knew that you wouldn’t see him until Saturday night, you still wished he would come back.

“You’ve got it bad.” Cal said, breaking the silence that hung over the shop.

You shrugged. “What can I say? I simp for one milky donut man.”

Cal just groaned in response murmuring something under her breath as you finally went back behind the counter to _actually_ work. Maybe you could learn to eventually overlook that flaw after all.


End file.
